


He Walks in Beauty like the Night

by snowspy



Category: Kasabian
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2388257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowspy/pseuds/snowspy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom's internal thoughts on his bandmate on one sunny</p>
<p>Based on this absolutely stunning <a href="http://angrymetalbender.tumblr.com/post/97647751701/if-i-could-die-from-prettiness-i-cant-stop">photo</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Walks in Beauty like the Night

You’re beautiful.  
  
Every time I look at you, I think that. Every time I think that, I want to say it. As if I had never said it before, in the darkest of nights when our bodies were entangled, in the brightest of days when our words were entwined, under the most glorious lights when our souls were enmeshed and we soared high above the stage.  
  
Sergio Pizzorno, the most beautiful man alive. Haha. You should be awarded that title. Though I highly doubt that will happen because most people are too intimated by your rather petrifying poise. It’s all that hair, Serge, makes you look quite scary for some people.  
  
But I am glad. D’you know why? Because that means I don’t have to share your splendor with anyone. You are the most beautiful man alive. I would die if ever I tried to stop adoring you. Do you know how hard I work to prevent myself from gawking at you all day? Why do you think I talk so much? It’s not because I’ve got a giant gob on me, though that’s also true. But because if I don’t, that traitorous mouth of mine will betray his owner and gape shamelessly, conspiring with my eyes who will lock their gaze at you and my hands who will roam your skin wildly yet reverently.  
  
I mean for fuck’s sake, look at you today, for example! Here we are in the middle of a shoot, the sort of work you find boring and utterly unnecessary. The sun is ablaze and the wind is blowing a shimmering canvas on which your image is drawn. From where I’m sat, I can see the painting clearly. Your coffee-coloured locks, forming gorgeous waves against the blueness of sky behind you. Sometimes, no, a lot of times you let me play with them. Let me rake my fingers through the untamed tresses. They frame your face wildly, a face so finely shaped I could swear it was molded personally by nature herself. Even right now the tips of my fingers remember the sensation of your skin, smooth against each one of them. The sunray lends a soft glow to it today, making your cheeks look pinkish and dewy. Like a pair of sexy peaches. I want to bite them now. But I won’t, ‘cos there are just too many people here. Maybe later tonight, eh? For now I’m just going to sit back and continue enjoying the view.  
  
You have lashes flowing smoothly from your eyelids, some of them standing separately with graceful arrogance, some sticking together as if shy to meet the world alone. So gorgeous. Do you curl them every morning, Serge? Haha. Nah, course not, I would have seen you do it. Or perhaps I’d missed it, too hypnotised by those deep dark eyes of yours that could break into my soul at will. What are you thinking now? I can see you smiling from here. Your eyes fluttering close and your lips forming an elegant curve, a thin rosy stroke. Those lips can do wonders, you know. Most of the time they look stern, a hard line adding an air of formidability to your feature. But I know full well how soft they actually feel, with velvet-like texture, when I catch them between my own. When they glided all over my skin last night, they aroused every nerve and set them alight, sending a million tiny sparks of pleasure into my brain.  
  
And let us not forget the fuzzy layer that carpeted the lower part of your face. The first time we kissed, I expected it to tickle me quite harshly. I didn’t know, I’d never kissed a bearded man before. Heck, I’d never kissed a man before. But as it turned out, it was surprisingly soft. Since then I’ve always thought you look a bit like a teddy bear, with all those fluffy hair on you. A skinny teddy bear, granted, but still very much huggable.  
I can overhear you talking about the upcoming tour. So serious, always so dedicated to your work. Always so exquisite in that dedication. There’s a brilliance that shines from your core every time you are engrossed in your music. That is why thousands of people are gripped by your songs. That is why you are able to bring gods to their knees.  
Ah, you’ve finished your conversation. I see you’re looking at me now, and heading towards my direction. Come sit down with me in the shade.  
  
“Alright, mate?”  
  
“You’re gorgeous.”  
  
You smiled. My pretty boy.


End file.
